


A Brief Moment Of Innocence

by Leni



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: "But tonight an exhausted boy lay on their bed, and they took the chance to speak of adult matters while he slept."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Melsisalady prompted: Mordred's Lullaby

The two old women sat by the fire. One knitting the start of sleeves for a small sweater, the other peeling a few more potatoes than their usual portion, ready to be added to the pot hanging over the fire. 

They were used to the silence of their lives after sundown. On any other day they would have kept to their chores in quiet company, allowing the crackle of the firewood as the only noise in their home.

But tonight an exhausted boy lay on their bed, and they took the chance to speak of adult matters while he slept.

"Think he'll come back?" one asked, not pausing her needles.

The other frowned when her knife dug too deep into the potato. There was no need to mention the name. Of the few men that had come into their lives, there was only one worth mentioning tonight. "Not if what Rumpelstiltskin says it's true," she said.

Both shook their heads. They had known Malcolm as a youth. It was not great gain to that fantastic world, to have invited him to stay.

"If I hadn't given Rum that bean...."

"Then that fool would still be around, dragging the boy about."

"A boy needs his father."

"A boy needs a decent life," the other retorted, the click of her needles sharper and quicker. "Good riddance to Malcolm. If that demon eats his soul, it's nothing he doesn't deserve. Look at Rum, Gwen. So small I can hardly credit he's six years old already. That idiot man should've brought him here years ago."

Gwen had to nod. With the ease of decades of practice, she sliced a potato in fours, then eights, while barely looking at it. "Rum's with us now," she reminded gently. "I'm not sure it's right that he hears such things about his father."

"He'll hear worse as soon as the neighbors know his name."

"But you're Malcolm's sister."

"And I'm Dinah's sister as well." She put her knitting back, unable to focus under all her anger. "He _ruined_ her, Gwen. Our own half-sister."

It was an old argument. Only a few months older than the sleeping boy. "She was happy to let him."

"She was seventeen. She was stupid." A shrug. "She left all her faults to the river's current."

Gwen shuddered, making the sign to ward against restless spirits. A woman betrayed by her lover was bad enough, but dead by her own choice and now betrayed again in the form of her abandoned child... It would be enough to raise any mother from her eternal sleep. "At least she didn't take the boy with her," she whispered.

"Dinah wasn't a monster," said the sister, and then scowled. Old resentments, renewed by the helpless fury of another weeping child left behind, made the usually placid features twist into a mask of anger. "But he... Oh, Malcolm was worse than one. Charming like a snake, and just as full of poison."

"Hush! Think of the boy."

The two turned to the bed, where Rumpelstiltskin remained in happy unconsciousness.

"Bah. He'll sleep through the night. Poor thing was wiped out when he arrived."

"We still should be careful. No need for him to hear such things about his father."

"Hmph." A shrug. "Shouldn't he know where his blood comes from? Perhaps it'll help him avoid the temptation, when he comes of age."

"That's not how it works," Gwen said gently. "Evil isn't born, it's made. Such talk will only make him hate Malcolm."

The other smiled darkly, unrepentant. "Good."

"But what's the use now that he's gone?"

There was no answer to that.

But neither had lived with Rumpelstiltskin long enough to understand that, although small for his age, he was cleverer than most. The art of being still until he went unnoticed by whole crowds was not unknown to him. Laying out quietly was so easy, and eventually he'd convince himself that there was no great powerful shadow to devour him and startle him out of his dreams.

Awake, listening and trying not to, Rumpelstiltskin shut his eyes tight.

Auntie Gwen was right. He would be nothing like his father.

And no one could make him.

 

The End  
16/11/16


End file.
